by Laura Lam
“If someone touches it, it tracks them,” Drystan whispered. “Even a piece of hair will do.”
“Do you think I’m in it?”
“Probably. If Elwood has this, he must know what it is. Explains why he’s the best Shadow in the city, as he claims. Wonder where he got it.”
“Can we… erase my record somehow, if I am in it?”
“I don’t know how it works.”
Neither did I. “We could steal it,” I said.
He looked at me. “He’ll know we took it.”
“We can’t leave it.”
He nodded, wrapping the Mirror of Moirai in a cloth and putting it in his pack.
“What did you find before you came through?” he asked.
I looked at the forgotten files in my lap. I passed the papers to him and he scanned them. “Not a lot here to surprise us, except Miss Cyan here.” He narrowed his eyes.
I crept back to the window. She stood just out of the light of the streetlamp, her hands deep in her pockets, her breath misting in the air. I came back to Drystan. “She hasn’t moved.”
He tapped his teeth together. “I found the drugs here,” he said, tilting his head. I followed his gaze to a large, antique tapestry that would not have been out of place in the public wing of the palace. It depicted a kelpie – a smooth horse the color of green-glass, rising from the ocean, water weeds in its black mane. Dark storm clouds lurked on the horizon. The kelpie’s eyes showed the whites in fear, as though something in the water pursued it. I did not like it.
“A lot of these flats have the same floor plan. I lived in one much like this at university. There was a door here in my bedroom,” he said, pulling the tapestry aside. Sure enough, there was a small alcove and a safe, which Drystan had broken into.
In the safe was where he had found the box of Lerium-like drugs. Inside was another filing cabinet. I rifled through it, taking out other files with the name Chokecherry, Laurus, and Zhu. I scanned Chokecherry’s file first.
“He’s blackmailing his clients,” I said, passing the papers to him.
He whistled low. “Looks like we’re being pursued by a crooked Shadow.”
Ignoring the two other files for the time being, we searched through other folders at random. More than once, it was obvious Elwood fabricated evidence, or withheld vital information. My stomach twisted. Some people had gone to prison or died because of him. People who shouldn’t have. Any guilt about our plan evaporated.
I looked in Cyan’s file, still avoiding my own.
I read aloud: “'C’s parents mentioned a Shai – when they spoke to each other in Temnian, they did not realize I spoke the tongue. If she is a Shai, would make case v. interesting.’” So her parents hired the Shadow. How had they afforded it? Shadows were not cheap.
“What’s a Shai?” I asked Drystan.
“Sounds familiar. Something to do with Temnian mythology.”
“She isn’t… like me, is she?”
Drystan shook his head. “No idea.”
I grunted, still reading.
“Anything else?”
“A lot of it is abbreviated. I don’t know… Something about an event that happened at the circus. Caused her to leave. She ran away two weeks before we left our circus. Can you make anything else of it?” I passed the papers to him and then, with trepidation, picked up the folder with my name on it.
It had nearly everything. A detailed summary of Bil’s death, Drystan’s first name – though not his surname – and the Kymri Theatre. But what really worried me was that Elwood had written: “Location determined. Parents not informed. Waiting confirmation for the next course of action. Suspicions of being watched. Second Shadow? Linked to RP?”
A shiver ran through me. Another Shadow? As if one wasn’t enough. And who was RP? I looked in the folders, but there were no names with those initials. My breathing seemed to come from both very far away and close in my ears. I swayed on my feet, my vision darkening.
Drystan’s hands closed about my shoulders as I slumped against him.
“I’ll never be safe,” I muttered. “It’ll never stop.”
Drystan led me to the bed and sat me down, guiding my torso until my head was between my knees. I focused on my breathing.
Drystan rubbed my back as I sucked in deep breaths.
“Your brain bathed in blood again?”
“Think so. That’s never happened to me before.” Sitting up, I touched my hand to my head.
“First time for everything.” He sighed. “We’ve got enough to hang him. We’ll trickle the information to the right people and Shadow Elwood will disappear.”
“It’s too late anyway. Someone else is looking for me and we don’t know how current that file is. Who is he waiting for?”
“I don’t know.”
We were surrounded by meretricious displays of wealth. Alabaster naiads and sylphs held up the marble mantelpiece. How much of it was bought through blackmail and double-crossing?
“He will have enemies. Anyone who came looking might have found this,” I said, gathering up the papers.
“Very true.”
“Let’s go. We’ve snooped enough.”
A train whistle blew once, twice, and then a third time. Drystan and I froze. Cyan’s alarm. I dashed to the lounge, ensuring all of the desk drawers were shut. I returned to the bedroom where Drystan was putting the safe to rights and stuffing the last of the papers into his pack. We took a deep breath and I clasped his hand.
But just as we reached the door to the bedroom, the front door opened.
A man coughed as he stumbled into the lounge. Quickly, Drystan and I slid under the bed. It was dusty, with spare socks and a few books. Drystan and I lay pressed against each other, the bedsprings scant inches above our heads. We heard Elwood stomp into the apartment. He must never have made it to the opera, to be back so soon.
He was not alone.
The woman laughed low in her throat. She tottered about the lounge, as drunk as he was. I could hear them kissing – sloppy, sucking sounds. Drystan’s gaze met mine, wide in the darkness beneath the bed.
“I hope they don’t decide to fuck in here,” he whispered, his voice little more than a breath in my ear. I clamped my hand over my mouth, fighting down a hysterical giggle. All the nerves and fear of breaking and entering a stranger’s house threatened to burst from me. I buried my face in Drystan’s shirt, silent laughs racking my body. He shook with laughter as well. I thought of how perplexed the Shadow would be if he stumbled into his bedroom and discovered two hysterical boys beneath his bed and that started me all over again. Tears gathered in my eyes and my face must have been tomato-red from the effort of keeping quiet.
When the silent laughter finally ebbed, the fear returned, stronger than before. The only solace was that, if he found us, the Shadow needed us alive to collect his reward. I also realized that I was very close indeed to Drystan. I could smell the lemon soap he used to wash, the spicy scent of his skin. His heart beat quickly, his stubble scratched against my forehead. As the Shadow and his lady embraced in the next room, I wondered how we were ever going to get out of this.
“Oh, Leda,” Elwood said. They came into the bedroom. Leda tripped and left her shoe by the bed, a little satin dance slipper, decorated with crystal beading. Please, please don’t let her bend down to pick it up. My nose tickled with dust. I pinched my nose shut to stop the sneeze. The other satin shoe joined the first as Elwood threw Leda onto the bed.
“My sweet summer rose…” he murmured, and I made a face at Drystan. He bit his lip to keep from laughing, but he was pale beneath his freckles. They were making all manner of noises on the bed, and the springs sagged alarmingly in the middle. Would we be trapped here all night?
Articles of clothing littered the floor of the bedroom. Leda’s dress, a pale, watered green silk decorated with pink roses. Her corset. Elwood’s coat and waistcoat. His notebook peeked out from the pocket of his coat. What I would not give to take it,
but it was clear on the other side of the room.
“It’s cold, my love,” Leda said, her voice low and sultry.
“I’ll soon warm you,” he said.
“The cold from outside is deep in my bones.” I heard the rasp of her hands rubbing her skin.
“I have an idea. Come, my dove.”
Elwood and Leda’s naked feet came into view. A ropey scar twined about Elwood’s hairy ankle. He led her into the washroom, turning on the tap for the bath, but he paused before joining her.
“A moment, my sweet.”
His feet grew closer. He paused by his trousers, which were right by the bed. He reached down and I saw his hand, a scant few inches from my face. He rummaged in the pockets of his trousers and found a lambskin prophylactic. We were as quiet as could be, but his hands and feet stilled. He went about the room, opening the wardrobe door and rifling behind his clothing. The Shadow came back toward the bed. He began to crouch. I tensed, ready to fight him, my body thrumming with nerves.
“Sweetling,” Leda called from the washroom. “The water is warm. What’s taking so long?”
Shadow Elwood paused. He laughed ruefully. “Coming, my darling.” He padded to the washroom. As soon as the door closed, Drystan and I were out from under the bed, covered in dust. At the door from the bedroom to the living room, I paused to crouch and grab the notebook, but Drystan’s hand stopped me. He shook his head.
“He’ll know someone was here,” he mouthed.
He’ll know anyway, I wanted to say, but I left it.
We darted through the lounge and opened the window, hoping the running bath would cover the sound. Within moments, we were back on the frigid windowsill, stuffing our feet into our boots, and then shimmying down the frozen drainpipe. Drystan took the Eclipse and turned it off. This time, I felt a surge of energy. The street was empty and deserted but for Cyan. She started walking toward home, and we followed her, shadows with secrets.
14
THE DAMSELFLY
“Dreams hold the answers, even if the questions are not yet known.”
Elladan proverb
I was in a garden.
Chimaera strolled along the paths. Most were dragonfly, like me, but several fauns and naiads lounged beneath the trees. The air was thick with a sweet perfume of hundreds of blossoms. Early afternoon lengthened to evening. The small Venglass domes that lined the path glowed in the soft dusk.
I stretched my arms over my head, content in the moment. All was well. I ran my hands over the warm, iridescent flesh of my arms. Blood flowed through my veins, not metal wires. My wings buzzed behind me, swirling my hair about my face. I turned to the Chimaera beside me. My love.
“I like this life,” he murmured. “Everything seems to have worked out well this time, has it not?” His voice was as familiar to me as the birds’ calls at dawn. The peacock blue and green sheen of his markings glittered in the glowing light of the Venglass.
“It has. It is a welcome respite.” Unbidden, the memories of the murdered boy, my dear Nian, came to me. I wished I could forget it, but there are some memories that even dozens of lives will not erase, no matter how much we would wish otherwise. “That death is still a black mark in my ledger.”
“We have all the time in the world to make it right,” he said, his hand just grazing my jawline. “All the time we need.”
I stared at two fauns on the grass, one playing music that drifted through the air like the scent of the flowers. “I hope you are right. Sometimes, I cannot lose the feeling that we do not have as much time as we would like. That there are only so many lives we can live.”
“I am always right, when it comes to these things.” He held me close for a kiss. He tasted of honeysuckle, his fingertips as light on my face as rose petals. I drew him in for a deeper kiss, pressing against the man as familiar to myself as my own skin. In every life, we found each other, no matter the distance. My Relean.
Above us, the sky blazed. We broke apart, shielding our eyes from the light with our hands. It was as though the sunset returned, lighting the sky with the colors of a forest fire.
It was a ship with furled wings curling over the prow. It landed on the grass, glowing blue. I clasped my love’s hand in mine.
The door opened, and two Alder emerged from the ship. It had been years since I had seen an Alder. They were scarcer in the Ven now, preferring to stay farther up the mountains with their own kind. And many had grown tired of this world and left in search of other moons and stars.
They came straight for us, as I knew they would. Relean and I waited. They were so tall. I always forgot how tall they were, the unnatural thinness of their limbs, the blue sheen to their skin. Their large eyes glowed the same cobalt as Venglass.
They inclined their heads at me, and I bowed my head in turn. All the Chimaera were gone, the music silent, leaving the garden private for me, my love, and the Alder. One of them – a female – held a small bundle in her arms. I fought the urge to sigh even as my heart constricted.
“Your newest charge,” one said in Alder, the three-tonal voice echoing in my ears and mind. “We trust you will look after this one better than the last.”
My cheeks burned at the rebuke, though the death had not been ruled my fault. I held out my hands for the bundle.
It looked like a human child. I saw no iridescence, no scales or feathers. They had never given me a humanoid Chimaera before, usually leaving humans to care for them. I looked up at the Alder in confusion.
“Unwrap this one,” the taller Alder intoned.
I did, and nearly gasped with shock.
The Alder inclined their heads at me and turned, walking with their liquid grace back to the ship. Within moments, they were gone. But the spell of the garden had broken. The air seemed colder, the scent of the flowers cloying and suffocating.
The child gurgled in my arms. I looked at Relean. He touched my face with his hands.
“All will be well, my love. All will be well.” I drew him into another kiss in the silent garden, the child a barrier between us.
“Little Kedi…”
I awoke, every nerve of my body on alert, memories of the strange dream echoing in my mind. It was only a remnant of the dream. Nothing to fear. I closed my eyes and willed my racing heart to stop.
“Little Kedi…”
No. I was not hearing voices. I was not.
“The time has come.”
I found myself climbing out of bed. I clutched the warm damselfly disc. It hummed like an Augur. I shrugged into my coat and stepped into slippers, almost as if I were sleepwalking. I climbed to the roof. Small snowflakes danced along the wind. I stared at the small disc in my hand. As if in a dream, I flicked the switch and set it on the ground. Backing away, I hugged my arms around myself as the wavering image of the Phantom Damselfly appeared.
In the sideshow Pavilion of Phantoms in the circus, she had a loop of actions she performed, walking in a circuit, looking up overhead. She had frightened the visitors of the Pavilion so much that the tent closed down, the disc returning to the safe with the other Vestige pieces the ringmaster collected. She had returned to the stage of the pantomime of Leander & Iona, becoming a monster that Leander must battle. She had not been a frightening monster. Not until she broke her normal movements and glanced over her shoulder, directly at me, before she disappeared.
There was no pretense of those motions, now. She shook her head as though awakening, and then she gazed at me with intelligence and sadness.
“Little Kedi,” she said, and sighed soundlessly, snowflakes falling through her transparent dragonfly wings. Her features were almost Alder proportions – bigger eyes, cheekbones that could cut glass, and a wide, thin mouth. Strange tattoos traced her hairline, following the long line of her neck, and disappeared under her gossamer dress.
My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth.
“I know what you want to know, little Kedi. Of the many things I have been, and the many names. You may call me
Anisa.”
“Anisa.” I pulled free my tongue from the roof of my mouth and rolled her name on it.
She shook her head sadly. “You wonder why I speak to you and no one else.”
I nodded, terror stiffening my muscles.
“I can speak to so few, and you are the first in such a very long time. There are others who would also hear me. I feel them, flickering like a candle flame, just here.” She tapped her heart. Through her torso, I could see the glow of a gas lamp, as if her heart were aflame. “Some are closer than you know.”
“Why…?”
She shook her head. “Because we are alike.”
I took a step backwards. “We are not alike at all. You’re a ghost. Or a mirage. Vestige trickery.”
She moved closer to me, her feet trailing a light leading back to the disc. “I have lived thousands of years. I have seen marvels and horrors you cannot even fathom. You have lived but a few scant years. Sixteen years is but a blip of time in the span of the world.” She held her hand to my face, but I could not feel a thing. “Tell me, then, little Kedi. Which of us is more real?”
“What do you want of me?” I whispered.
“I have waited so long. The time is not yet right for the other chips to fall, and I still see little of the pattern.”
“You speak in riddles.”
She smiled. “I speak more plainly than you know. One day, you will see.”
I was tempted to tell her she was only proving my point, but I stayed quiet.
She turned out and looked over the dark skyline, the yellow windows of far-off buildings like stars. “The world is so different, now.”
The dream came back to me – the verdant fields of green, the Penglass buildings glinting in the sun. “I remember.”
Anisa swept a transparent hand toward the city. “You already know more than all of these people do about what happened long ago.”
I did. In a few scattered dreams, I knew more about the Alder Age than those who have spent their lives studying Classics and Antiquities.